Stargate: Atlantis Solace
by Dreamweaver74
Summary: After the loss of one of their own, how will the members of AR1 cope? And what possible good can come of it? Implied Teyla'Sheppard, McKay'Teyla
1. Morning Services

This is the first part of a continuing series. It supposes the fallout after the death of a very important character. I implore anyone who might read this that I do not, I repeat, do not dislike this particular character (in fact I happen to find him quite adorable) and I'm merely doing such a heinous thing because it is necessary to further the plot. 

Let me know what you think, enjoy, and all that other blah-blah.

Disclaimer: Stargate: Atlantis is owned by the lovely powers that be at MGM, and SciFi, and whomever else can lay legal claim. All of which are so not me!

Stargate Atlantis: Solace

Part One:  
Morning Services

Early morning, just after 7 am. The sky is very dark and gray, and more clouds are closing in. A light rain is beginning to fall, and a large group has gathered on the main deck. There would be many more, if only there were enough room. Dr. Elizabeth Weir, head of operations on AR1, stands facing the throng of scientific, military, and auxiliary personnel, trying to form the words that will help, make them feel even a little bit better.

Make her feel better.

She starts to speak of him, their fallen comrade, her voice clear and unfaltering, those assembled unable to discern the slight catch in her voice, the cast of her eyes toward the people closest to her in this strange place. She glances at Rodney Mckay, the one that before today she would've bet money on that he would keep his cool, show some sign of his patented self-centeredness. He is wearing an unreadable expression, but Weir is a good judge of what the eyes reveal. There is pain, and a strong resolve not to let that pain show. She knows there will be more than one empty liquor bottle in his quarters tonight, though.

Teyla is standing close to him, and to Weir's keen eye, it looks as though the young Althoosian will fall over if he so much as moves a quarter-inch away. Her face is much easier to read, her mouth drawn into a bitter line, her eyes wet, and not merely from the rain that is beating harder now on deck, soaking through everyone gathered.

Weir talks until there is nothing left to say, until finally, even she cannot keep up the facade of composure and steadfastness. The services end, and in lieu of a body, a wreath made of flowers found on World 25A29 is thrown into the swirling deep below. She can't stay out here anymore, but tells those assembled that they are free to be with their thoughts for the rest of the day.

One day to grieve, and one day to get over a loss felt throughout the station. One day to realize that the loss of John Sheppard was not a dream, but a very grim reality on a world where everything is very uncertain.

Elizabeth walks through, half expecting to hear a familiar laugh, a sarcastic remark, something that will reassure her that all of this is just a dream, and John will be right before her eyes, asking where's the funeral, why is she so glum.

_But it isn't going to happen, is it?_ She thinks, closer tothe onlyplaceshe will allow herself to let her defenses down.

Her room is dark, and she decides to keep it that way, for the time being. The place she is journeying to has no light, there is only a consuming sadness, and as she lays across her serviceable bed, the tears start to come.

One day is scarcely enough, but it will have to do for now.


	2. Tea and Sympathy

Note: So, after a very long time, here is the second chapter to my little tale. The focus is on Teyla and Rodney, and just so you know, will be for the majority of this piece. Hope if you read it, you enjoy it, and if you enjoy it, you kindly let me know.

Stargate: Atlantis, Teyla Emmagan, Dr. Rodney Mckay, all other related items are the property of MGM Television, SciFi channel...well, you know who you are. Not making any form of remuneration on this, OK?

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**Chapter Two:**

**Tea and Sympathy**

The services ended, and Teyla Emmagan walked back to her quarters. Dr. Weir had said many lovely things about him, most of which the Athosian failed to hear. It was hard enough trying to reconcile that this was the one time that he wouldn't be back, and the only thing she could focus on were the complexities of placing one foot in front of the other.

She passed Dr. Beckett en route; he looked as though he wanted to say something, but could not quite get the right words to form. In the end, he just nodded to her as she made her way.

As she rounded the corner, and so very close to her room, she bumped directly into Rodney. At first they just looked around and were attempting to say as little as possible. They were both locked in their own versions of suffering, but somehow had managed to make an attempt at comforting each other during the services.

Why were they so uncomfortable with each other now? They had been on numerous missions together, and though she sometimes had the most difficult time understanding the extremely high-strung, acerbic physicist, she considered him a friend.

"Elizabeth did a good job, didn't she?" Teyla couldn't be certain, but she could have sworn a flash of guilt lay just beneath his eyes. Why would he be guilty, why should he?

The fault didn't lie with him, after all.

"Yes, Rodney, she did." Ordinarily she would have welcomed the chance to speak with him; but this wasn't an ordinary day, not at all. He looked poised to say more, and before the words fell from his lips, she held a hand up to silence him.

"I'm sorry Rodney, but this is perhaps not the best of times to speak," she noticed the slight hurt expression on his face, quickly adding, "but later I would be very glad to talk over a cup of tea."

"Oh, right...of course. Um, I'll see you later, Teyla."

He seemed so defeated, so alone, so unlike Rodney Mckay.

She really wanted, needed to be alone by herself, to try and make some sense of what happened on P724. So many had been lost, men and women who gave their lives in service to one of the greatest adventures anyone could ever hope to go on. But that would be scant comfort to the legion of mothers, fathers, and other family and friends who simply wanted to know, _why._ Each time someone died, a deeper sadness would fall over the station.

When John Sheppard died, the very heart of Atlantis seemed to die with him.

She needed time, time to process the loss of someone that very quickly worked himself into her heart, against her better reasoning. She wasn't a cold person, far from it in fact. But on Athos, she was a warrior, first and foremost, with precious little time for much else.

Meeting John created a whole other possibility. The potential for companionship, for a joining of two very different people who shared a fierce loyalty and determination to see things through. Yes, he was a good warrior, too. With a wonderful sense of humor, and a trusting heart, and beautiful warm green eyes that looked at her, not through her, as some of the others had.

She wasn't going to cry, not now. Not when a friend needed her.

The strength and power that she displayed to her people was surpassed only by her deep and unyielding affection for them, and the longer she lived and fought beside the soldiers and scientists of Atlantis, the more that affection expanded toward them as well.

_There will be time enough to lay with my thoughts, to come to an understanding of what has happened, _she decided, smiling gently at Rodney.

"Actually, I'm suddenly in need of some of that tea now."

"I think I can make us a turkey sandwich," Rodney replied as they both headed for the commissary.


End file.
